


Day 9: Wall Sex

by Alyssa_85



Series: 30 Day NSFW Challenge [9]
Category: Hetalia: Axis Powers
Genre: Bad Preparation, M/M, Rough Sex, Spit As Lube, Wall Sex
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-01-09
Updated: 2017-01-09
Packaged: 2018-09-15 22:27:24
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 817
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9260675
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Alyssa_85/pseuds/Alyssa_85
Summary: France roughly fucks England against a wall.





	

Familiar. That’s the only way Francis could describe the feeling of Arthur pressed against the wall, his breath smelling of beer and his bare legs wrapped around Francis’ waist. Familiar, but not unwelcome. He held Arthur up, hands cupping his butt, and mouth attached to neck. Arthur let out slight puffs of air, legs tightening and loosening around Francis’ waist, hands holding his shoulders for extra support.

Arthur would like to believe it was the last time, but he had been telling himself that for months. Truth is, sex with Francis became a pass time. He liked the feeling of Francis pinning him to a wall, hands squeezing and groping any part of Arthur’s body he could reach. Arthur lived for any time he’d go out with the Frog, get drunk and then thoroughly fucked against a wall. It wasn’t loving, it was never slow or sweet, just rough fucks and they parted ways.

Francis shifted Arthur, removing one hand to bring it up to Arthur’s mouth. “Suck,” he demanded, practically shoving the digits between the red lips. Arthur did, drawing circles around the three fingers with his tongue. When Francis deemed them wet enough, he withdrew his hand. “If you don’t relax,” Francis said, circling his fingers around Arthur’s hole. “This’ll hurt.” France pushed one of his fingers in, only giving England a split second before adding a second. Arthur screamed, head slamming back against the wall.

“Wanker!”

“I told you it would hurt.” Francis scissored his fingers. “I know you, Arthur, that was nothing for you. You could have taken three to start with, mon cher.” The affectionate name was a complete opposite to the way his fingers moved roughly within England’s tight walls, and like poison for England to hear.

England bit down on Francis’ shoulder. “Fuck me already, Frog.”

Francis chuckled, pulling his fingers out. “You really are a little slut, England.” Without warning, France pushed England down on his cock, fully sheathing himself in him. A few tears spilled from Arthur’s eyes, dripping down Francis’ back.

“It’s all right,” Francis soothed, rubbing Arthur’s thigh. “Relax, Arthur.”

“Just fuck me. I can take it.” Arthur scraped his nails into Francis’ back, leaving angry trails as Francis thrusts upwards, and brings Arthur down on his cock. “Shit!” Arthur cried out, his wanton moans echoing on the walls, the sound of wet, sweat covered skin slapping together.

Francis’ hands were clammy, the feeling of them almost uncomfortable on Arthur’s skin. He peppered Arthur’s neck and shoulders with light bites, and soft kisses. “You’re so tight,” Francis moaned, shifting his position slightly, trying to find the place that would have Arthur seeing stars. He knew he’d found it when Arthur’s legs tightened, and his fingers dug deeper into his skin.

“There! Oh fuck, Francis, there!” Arthur threw his head back, uncaring of the wall behind him, and the loud bang it made as his head made contact. All he could think about was the cock pistoning in and out of him, and the feeling of being stretched so far he was sure he wouldn’t be able to walk at all after.

Wall sex was, and always had been, Arthur’s favourite. The way Francis held him, pushing him down against his cock, Francis could reach places inside of Arthur that he hadn’t even known felt good. It helped that Francis knew exactly where to touch, where all of Arthur’s most sensitive places were.

“Are you close, mon cher?” France purred, nipping at England’s ear.

“Stop calling me that, Frog,” England snapped, purposely digging his nails into Francis’ shoulders, drawing slight blood.

“I thought you liked it, mon cher?” Francis’ grunted, hands gripping England’s hip tighter.

England pushed down hard, Francis’ cock slamming into his prostate. “I’d p-prefer,” England moaned low in his throat. “You don’t -ugh-  talk at -fuck- all, if I’m honest.”

“You want it harder?”

“God yes.” Arthur cried out with each perfect hit to his prostate, Francis’ thrusts never missing. Arthur fully wrapped his arms around Francis, pulling the Frenchman closer than either thought possible, his heels digging into Francis’ lower back. “Fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck, I’m going to cum,” England whined, thrusting into the hand France had wrapped around his cock.

“Cum for me, mon lapin.” And cum England did, he practically screamed as he came, shot after shot landing on and between him and France. England went limp against Francis as he continued to fuck England’s hole, cumming seconds later, England’s heat pulsing around his cock.

“Put me down, Frog,” England demanded once they both had their breath back. Francis complied, slipping out, and carrying England to the bed, depositing him softly. England curled in on himself as France pulled the covers over him. Francis removed the condom, discarding it in the bin beside England’s bed before leaning over and pressing a light kiss to England’s temple.

“Until next time, mon amour.”


End file.
